The Past in the Present
by Fear Herself
Summary: When a face from Sweets' past turns up, the Squints investigate and find out more about the therapist than he would have liked. Sweets/Daisy
1. Ch 1: Blood Rights

**A/N: Hi, first Bones fic! As you can probably tell, Sweets is my favorite character and I wanted to write something about him.  
So please be nice and NO FLAMES PLEASE!  
And there _is _Sweets/Daisy in this, so yea...  
Enjoy!**

**Chapter One: Blood Rights  
****___________________**

_Knock! Knock!_

Sweets glanced at the clock on his laptop.

**7: 13 PM**

Daisy wasn't supposed to come until eight thirty at least.

_'Maybe she was fired again.'_ He thought as he stood up to open the door.

He loved Daisy, motor mouth and all. It wasn't entirely her fault that she, in Cam's words, "turned reasonable people into fiery balls of fury" she could just be…over exhilarated.

He couldn't help but smile as the tumblers clicked and he pulled the door open.

"Hey, you're ear-" He started, but the rest became stuck in his throat as his eyes met the man standing in the doorway.

He was older than he remembered, well of course he would be, it'd been almost twenty years since Sweets had seen him. It couldn't be him though, it just couldn't.

But when the man opened his mouth and said, "Hello Lance." with venom dripping off each word, he knew it was him.

Sweets' knees nearly buckled and his breaths became shallow. He gripped the doorknob for support as he stammered, "Get...get out..."

The man smirked and his whole body tensed. He tried to slam the door, hoping that just a slab of wood would be enough to keep him away, but the man placed an arm between the door and it's frame. Sweets didn't have the strength to close it at that moment.

"Aren't you happy to see me?" He asked.

"Get out." He repeated. His whole body had begun to shake. He could feel his back tense automatically as the man's face came closer to his.

"That's no way to greet family." Sweets swallowed nervously.

"You're not family."

"We share blood, don't we?"

Sweets chose not to answer.

"Blood means more than adoption papers, Doctor Sweets." The man said his name in the way most people said words like zit or filth, disgusted and repulsed.

Sweets could feel a dull throbbing coming from his back. No, He told himself, there's no real pain, it's just fear. He took a deep, shaky breath and spoke.

"Get out now or I'll call the police." It didn't sound nearly as threatening as he would have liked, but it seemed to work.

The man un-wedged himself from the door frame and Sweets began to close it.

_Crack!_

It happened so quickly, a fist came through the small crack of open door left and hit him in the nose.

Sweets stumbled back, dazed. He could feel drops of blood splash onto his shirt. He could feel the sharp pain from his probably broken nose.

It was real.

"You may try to deny it, but my blood is in your blood. We're the same whether you like it or not." The voice said from behind the door. There was silence for a moment, then the sound of footsteps growing lighter and lighter as the trailed off through the apartment building's hallway and down the staircase at the other end.

Sweets' breaths had become shallow once more. He sank to the floor, open door and broken nose forgotten at that moment.

He pulled his knees to his chest and placed his face on them.

On the floor of the dimly lit apartment, Sweets began to cry.


	2. Ch 2: Painful Echoes

**Chapter Two: Painful Echoes**

* * *

The night was cool as Daisy pulled the apartment building's door open.

She waltz into the tiny lobby and towards the staircase at the back.

Her heels clicked up the concrete steps, echoing in the silent corridor.

First Floor

Not much had happened that day.

Second Floor

Doctor Brennan had been out in the field with Agent Booth.

Third Floor

She'd helped examine the bones.

Four Floor

It'd been a good day, but not all that interesting.

Fifth Floor

Daisy stepped onto the landing, pulled the door open and entered the hallway.

She smiled at the prospect of seeing her boyfriend. Usually he'd be at the Jeffersonian, assisting Doctor Brennan and Agent Booth on their cases, but she hadn't seen him all day.

As she approached his apartment, Daisy noticed something odd.

The door was open. Not wide open, but enough to cause her concern. Daisy cracked the door open a little wider and peered into the dim apartment.

"Lance?" She called. No answer.

"Anybody home?" She tried again. Silence.

Daisy pushed the door open and stepped inside. It was dark, the only light came from a small table lamp in the corner of the room.

"Lance?" She tried again. There was another long silence, but this time it was broken by a muffled sob. Daisy scanned the apartment for it's source.

Her eyes landed on the form of her boyfriend curled up by the couch, face buried in his knees. Daisy's eyes widened and she swallowed nervously. She quietly walked over and crouched next to him.

"Hey," She said quietly as she reached out and placed a hand on his shoulder. He flinched at her touch. Daisy pulled her hand back.

"What happened?" She asked. Sweets didn't say anything.

"Please, tell me."

He raised his head and looked at her. Daisy didn't hold back her gasp this time.

His shirt was covered in blood. It seemed to be coming from his nose (which, Daisy noted, looked slightly crooked). His eyes were red and his cheeks were wet from crying.

"Oh god..." She murmured.

He tucked his head back into his knees. Daisy reached out and wrapped her arms around him. Sweets didn't flinch this time.

"I'm sorry." She whispered as she kissed the top of his head. Daisy didn't know what had happened, but she did know Sweets needed someone at that moment. She kept repeating the words.

"I'm so sorry."


	3. Ch 3: Believe None

**A/N: Sorry the update took so long, I sprained my ankle on Monday (in sparkly shoes none the less XD),  
so I missed my Tuesday classes and Wednesday morning and needed to catch up.  
I've been working on this chapter on -and-off since Sunday.  
Also, this is my first time writing Booth & Brennan, so I hope I do it right!  
And thanks for all the favorites/alerts/reviews, they mean the world to me!  
Enjoy!**

**Chapter Three: Believe None  
**

* * *

_James Cutter sees people not as living beings, but-_

Sweets caught a glimpse of his reflection on the computer screen and grimaced.

The cast wasn't very obvious, just a white bandage that went flat around the outside of his nose, yet almost everyone at the FBI asked him what had happened. Every time he mumbled the same excuse.

"I fell."

No one seem to buy it, but they didn't press him for anymore info.

Daisy had been insistent about going to the hospital last night. Sweets was still humiliated that she'd seen him like that, terrified and a mess.

He quickly glanced at the clock on the corner of the computer screen.

**9: 45 AM**

Agent Booth and Doctor Brennan would be there in fifteen minutes. Sighing, Sweets saved his paperwork and began to prepare.

* * *

"So Peter Parker attained the genes of a arachnid through a bite? That's highly unlikely."

"It doesn't have to make sense Bones, it's a comic." Booth held the door to Sweets' office open for Brennan.

"Still, they should try to use proper science." She said as she entered.

"Hello Doctor Brennan, Agent Booth." Sweets said as they sat down. Booth nodded absentmindedly. Brennan silently stared at him. The physcologist shifted uncomfortably. "Is something wrong Doctor Brennan."

"What happened to your nose?" She asked. Sweets' eyes immediately dropped to the floor. Booth looked at him and raised an eyebrow.

"Wow, what'd you do to yourself?"

Sweets kept his eyes trained on the floor. "I fell."

Booth chuckled. "You're lying." Brennan's facial expression stayed the same. "Booth is right. Even I can tell."

Sweets didn't say anything.

"What'd you do?" Booth pressed.

"I fell." He mumbled again. Booth rolled his eyes.

"C'mon Sweets, what happened? You and Daisy-"

"I fell and broke my nose on the staircase at my apartment. It's nothing so drop it, okay?" The therapist said, almost hissing at them. Booth and Brennan glanced at each other, surprised by the outburst. They slowly nodded.

"Now," Sweets took a deep breath. "may we begin the session?"

* * *

Booth held the door open for Brennan as they left Sweets' office.

The session had been normal with no mention of his outburst again.

Brennan had started off down the hallway, Booth waited in the doorway for a moment.

"Hey Sweets," He started. The therapist looked up from the binder he was scribbling in.

"Yea?"

"You alright?"

He nodded.

There was a silence, then Booth continued.

"If you ever need to talk..." He trailed off. Sweets gave him a half-smile and a small nod. "Thanks."

Booth gave a weak smile and left.

* * *

As Booth entered his office, Brennan stood up from her seat.

"Where were you?" She asked.

"Talking to Sweets." Booth replied. Brennan sat back down.

"Is he okay?" She asked. Booth walked over to his chair and collapsed into it.

"I'm not sure," He answered. "but something's defiantly going on with him."

Neither of them say anything for a while. Then, Booth broke the silence.

"He isn't going to tell us."

"What?" The anthropologist asked, slightly confused.

"I mean that Sweets isn't going to tell us what happened." Booth stood up.

"Why not?"

"Because whatever happened struck a nerve-"

"Well of course it did, the nerves in the nose-"

"Metaphorically Bones. You saw how Sweets snapped when we pressed him for information, totally out of character. Something happened last night."

There was another silence.

"Well," Brennan started. "what do you suppose we do?" Booth smirked.

"We're his friends Bones. What do good friends do?"

"They look at all the possible things that-"

"Wrong," Booth interrupted as he grabbed his jacket.

"Good friends go behind Sweets' back and get Daisy to tell them what happened."


	4. Ch 4: Up All Night

**A/N: This chapter took FOREVER to write, but I really do like it.  
Thanks to everyone for the reviews, favorites and alerts, you have no idea how much I squeal when I get a review.  
Enjoy!**

**Chapter Four: Up All Night**

* * *

_'The bones show seventeen micro-fractures. Wait, twenty...no!'_

Daisy placed the bone back on the exam and dropped her head. After the events last night, Daisy could barely keep her eyes open. She felt as if she were about fall over and die of exhaustion...

* * *

The sanitary sent lingered in the air of the waiting room. Many people crowded the chairs, some injured, some just waiting them.

Daisy nervously twittled her thumbs, glancing occasionally at her boyfriend. His eyes were focused on the floor. He hadn't said anything to her since she'd found him. She'd sat on the floor with him for what seemed like hours, hugging him to her chest and whispering, "I'm so sorry." like a broken record. She had no idea what had happened, but that didn't matter. He needed her then.

She looked over at Sweets again. His nose had stopped bleeding but the scarlet stain was still on his shirt.

Daisy placed a hand on his back, causing him to flinch. She quickly pulled it away.

They sat in silence again. After a few minutes, Daisy felt pressure on her knee. She looked down to see a hand tightly gripping it. She glanced up at Sweets. His eyes were still on the floor but his formally blank face now looked nervous and terrified.

Daisy took his hand in her's and gently squeezed it.

"It'll be okay." She whispered.

She was more than surprised when she felt a squeeze in return.

* * *

The door clicked as Daisy pushed it open and entered Sweets' apartment with him in tow. It clicked once more as it closed behind him. She turned to look at him. The cast was barely noticeable, just a flat white bandage around the outside of his nose, but it still worried her. Sweets hadn't said a word to the doctor, not that she expected him to, and Daisy lied for him.

"He fell." She'd said.

"On what?" The doctor had asked.

"The -the stairs!" She'd quickly grasped the first logical thing to pop into her mind.

The doctor seemed to accept it and had treated Sweets' broken nose. Daisy had noticed he winced every time the doctor touched him.

Shaking herself out of her thoughts, Daisy noticed that her boyfriend had disappeared into his room. She followed, attempting to be as silent as possible.

She saw him curled on top of the comforter, lying on his side in the dark. She quietly lay down next to him and placed a hand on his back. She felt his back tense and quickly pulled her hand back.

The sound of cars driving by filled the silence for what seemed like hours.

"I...I'm sorry." Sweets said shakily.

Daisy had no idea of how much she had missed hearing his voice until that moment.

"You didn't do anything." She whispered. He rolled over to face her.

"You've been up all night because of me."

"It doesn't matter." She kissed his forehead. He moved closer to her.

There was another long moment void of sound.

"You didn't fall, did you?"

"No." It was barely a whisper.

Daisy felt him lay his head on her chest. She wrapped her arms around Sweets.

The pair embraced the silence as they slipped out of consciousness.

* * *

"Miss Wick?"

Daisy groggily opened an eye. Booth and Brennan were standing across from her, Brennan's face expressionless as usual, while Booth's had a look of confusion.

"Huh...oh! Doctor Brennan I am so, so sorry! I must've fallen asleep." Daisy giggled nervously.

"Standing up?" Booth asked. Daisy just smiled and nodded. Booth raised an eyebrow but kept silent.

"Miss Wick," Brennan started. "Do you know how Doctor Sweets broke his nose?" Booth sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose.

"Subtle as a sledge hammer Bones."

Daisy bit her bottom lip nervously and quickly said, "Nope. I didn't see Lance last night."

"You're lying," Brennan started. "You said that you were going to visit him just before you left."

Daisy silently cursed her motor-mouth.

"You know what happened, don't you?" Booth pushed on. Daisy's hands dropped to her side and curled into fists. Her brow furrowed and she glared.

"I don't know what happened, Agent Booth." She said, nearly growling at him. "Now if you don't mind, Doctor Brennan asked me to examine these bones."

Booth nodded and began to leave.

"But-" Brennan started. Booth grabbed her arm and began to pull her along.

"C'mon Bones," He said. "Daisy's right, she needs to work."

Daisy bit her tongue as they approached the doorway.

"Wait,"

The pair stopped and turned to face her. Her fists were unclenched now and her head was down.

"I -I really don't know what happened to Lance." She said quietly. Booth nodded.

"I know."

"I'm worried about him."

"So are we."

Daisy nodded and Booth and Brennan continued on their way.


	5. Ch 5: Broken Dreams

**A/N: Hey, sorry this chapter took so long, I have lots school work to do so updates may be a little infrequent for a while, but once a week at least.  
I do not like this chapter AT ALL, it's way too short and I just don't think I put in enough effort.  
Also, I have to say thanks to everyone who's been reading, reviewing and alterting this story, it really makes me smile.  
Enjoy!**

**Chapter Five: Broken Dreams**

* * *

The stairs creaked ominously as the woman descended them. The little bundle in her arms shifted uncomfortably.

"Mommy," It said groggily. "What's going on?"

"Shh, it's okay dear. We're...going on an adventure-"

"An adventure!?"

"Yes, but you have to be quiet." The bundle nodded and stopped talking. The mother quickly pulled on her coat and wrapped her little boy in his. She was about to open the door, she was finally about to get out of this hell hole-

"Val!"

She cringed as heavy feet thudded down the stairs.

"What the hell are you doing!?" Her husband yelled. Val kept her face blank and pushed the child behind her.

"We're leaving." She answered, eyes becoming dark. The man pushed her aside and stood in front of the door.

"Like hell you are." He snarled. Val didn't move. She felt her son begin to shake as he hid behind her legs.

"I'm doing this for him," She hissed. Her husband drew his hand back and slapped her across the face. Her hand flew to her cheek and she winced.

"Mommy!" The child cried out.

"I'm fine honey." Val lied.

The man glared at his son. He hid behind his mother's legs.

"C'mon sweetie," Val started. "We're leaving." She glared at her husband. "Get out of the way."

He slapped her again.

"Stop, please!" The child pleaded.

The man grabbed his son by the back of his jacket and dragged him down the hall. Val raced after him. Her husband turned as she came close to him. He used his free hand to shove Val to the ground and continued down the hall.

He stopped at the closet.

"Get in there." He grunted to his son.

"Please, no..." The child whispered. His father placed a hand on his back.

Within the space of a few seconds, the child felt himself tumble forwards onto the hard floor, skinning his knee in the process.

Ignoring the pain, he turned just in time to see the door close...

* * *

Sweets let out a yelp as he fell from the couch.

He landed with a thud on his back, breathing in short, nervous gasps. The black void of the closet had been replaced with the lights of his office. Traffic drove by on the busy street, echoing into the room.

He remained sprawled on the floor for a few more minutes, taking deep breaths. Sweets hadn't had the dream in a while, the last time had been when Booth and Brennan found out about his scars -he hadn't slept the whole week after that.

Using his elbows, Sweets propped himself into a sitting position. His eyes darted around the room, making sure no one had seen or heard him. The room was completely empty. He let out a sigh of relief. He leaned his head against the couch and closed his eyes for a moment.

He was very tempted to call Daisy right then, to tell her what had happened, but he didn't want to upset her. And Booth and Brennan were complete out of the question. He just couldn't let them find out anything else.

For the first time in a long while, Sweets felt completely alone.


	6. Ch 6: Call Me

**A/N: This chapter was suposed to be longer, but I decided just to upload what I had now.  
I had a story about Daisy's picture on Sweets' phone that got cut from this chapter for being overly long and off topic, but should I post it as a one-shot?  
Thanks to everyone who ha reviewed this story, it really makes me happy.  
Enjoy!**

**Chapter Six: Call Me**

* * *

Brennan glanced up from her computer and caught Booth staring at her from her office's couch. His eyes quickly darted down. Brennan shifted her eyes back to the screen, then flicked them back, catching Booth's eyes on her again. He looked away.

"Why are you staring at me?" She asked.

"Huh? I wasn't..." Booth muttered.

"Yes you were."

"You're being paranoid Bones." He smirked. Brennan gave him a small smile, then turned back to her computer. She quickly glanced back up, catching Booth's eyes for a second before they darted away.

"You're doing it again!"

"Doing what!?"

Brennan sighed and turned back to her computer.

The pair became silent for a few minutes.

"Bones," Booth started. Brennan glanced up at him.

"Are you worried?"

"About what?"

"About Sweets."

Brennan didn't say anything for a moment.

"Yes." She answered.

"Maybe we should..." Booth trailed off.

"Maybe we should what?"

"I don't know...talk to him or something."

"Would that be a good idea?" Brennan asked. "He reacted poorly when you asked him about his nose."

"Well, maybe we could try and pull some of his own Jedi mind tricks."

"I don't know what that means."

"Basically Bones, we make him tell us what happened by phsycing him out, like what he pulls on us." Booth paused. "What time is it?" Brennan glanced at her computer screen.

"Twelve seventeen."

The FBI agent stood up and grabbed his coat.

"Booth, where are you going?" His partner said as she stood up and grabbed her own coat.

"To get Sweets to come to lunch with us."

With a confused expression, Brennan followed her partner.

* * *

The therapist had taken to typing paperwork in an attempt calm his nerves.

So far it hadn't been very effective.

He'd closed the blinds to his office and canceled his next two appointments. He'd been able to get through his session with Booth and Brennan, but doubted he could handle another one that day.

Bzzt!

Sweets glanced at his phone. The screen displayed a picture of Daisy perched on a concrete ledge grinning with her head cocked to the right. He swallowed hard, then hit 'talk'.

"Hey." Sweets said, voice shaking slightly.

_"Hi Lance." _Daisy paused. _"How are you?"_

"Fine...you?" He knew Daisy could tell he was lying.

_"I'm good." _She answered.

The static of the phone line filled the awkward silence.

_"Agent Booth and Doctor Brennan were here earlier..."_ Daisy started. Sweets gulped, but didn't say anything.

_"They're worried about you." _She continued. _"You sure you're okay?" _He took a deep breath and bit his bottom lip.

"I...now isn't a good time to talk Daisy." He stammered. "Can...can you come over tonight?"

_"Of course." _Worried leaked into Daisy's voice.

"Thanks." Sweets paused. "I've got to go."

_"Okay," _Daisy hesitated for a moment. _"just...if you need to talk about anything at all, call me back."_

"I will," He hesitated this time. "Thanks."

_"Bye baby." _She said.

"Bye."

Sweets put the phone down as the dial tone sounded and placed his face in his hands. She hadn't said it out loud, but Daisy was worried about him. He really wondered how he'd ended up with such an amazing girlfriend. He felt terrible for the stress he was putting her through.

Door hinges squeaked behind him, causing Sweets to turn around and face his two favorite patients as they walk in unannounced and uninvited.

_'I really should have locked that door.'_


	7. Ch 7: The Strength to Break

**A/N: XD Okay, you all deserve to be angry at me for the incredibly long update wait, but I've been buried in school work.  
I've decided to play a game called "Spot the Doctor Who Refrence"! Basically, if you notice a refrence to the show, point it out and you win -uh...I don't really know yet...  
Also, my GLE teacher was kind enough to help me with the editing of the first half of the chapter as long as I gave her credit, so thank you very much Miss Low!  
Also, if Storm is reading this, get back to work!  
And I know Brennan didn't do much in this chapter, but she will have her time soon!  
Enjoy!**

**Chapter Seven: The Strength to Break**

* * *

The situation at the moment was, as Angela would put it, awkward, awkward, very awkward.

The three sat around the table by the window in silence. Sweets absentmindedly fiddled with the salt and pepper shakers while Booth and Brennan silently wished that they'd planned out their secret ambush on the therapist before rushing into it. Booth glanced at his partner. Her eyes were focused on Sweets, staring intently as he clicked the shakers together while muttering "Exterminate" quietly. Taking a breath, Booth decided to make the first move.

"So..." He started.

Sweets looked up.

"Did you finish that profile on Cutter yet?" He looked back down, obviously embarrassed.

"I...no, not yet." He replied. Booth raised an eyebrow.

"Really? I gave you that case what, two days ago? You're usually done by now."

"I know, I'm sorry." He said, running a hand through his hair. "I didn't get much sleep last night."

"Neither did Daisy." Brennan said, eyes not leaving him. Booth pinched the bridge of his nose in annoyance. So much for Jedi mind tricks.

Sweets shifted nervously and glanced out the window. Booth sighed.

"Listen Sweets," He started. "We know something is wrong."

"Booth, I'm fine, real-"

"Stop it, okay? Just stop. You're not fine. I may not have your shrink training but I know when people are lying to me. C'mon Sweets, you're always trying to get Bones and me to talk about this stuff. We're worried about you. _Daisy_ is worried-" Booth ranted, putting emphasis on the intern's name.

"Stop," The therapist murmured. He looked hurt and humiliated as he placed his face in his hands. "Just...stop, please."

"We want to help you." Booth said quietly. Sweets didn't respond for a few minutes.

"Not...not here..." He whispered.

"What?" Brennan asked.

"I don't want to talk about it here." He said a little louder. Booth nodded.

"We could go back to your office if you want." He offered. Sweets nodded wordlessly. Booth and Brennan quietly stood up, grabbed their coat. Sweets nervously got up and did the same.

Booth paid the bill for once.

* * *

Booth held the door open for Brennan and Sweets as they entered the office.

Brennan took her usual spot on the couch while Booth stood. Sweets sat down next to her. He leaned on the arm and looked over the edge, avoiding their eyes.

"Take your time." Booth said. He stood as still and expressionless as a statue.

There was silence in the room for what seemed like an eternity as the events relayed in his head.

The man, the hospital, the fear, the frustration and the pain.

It was then Sweets chose to finally let it out.

"I..." His voice shook as he attempted not to cry. "I was in my apartment last night. Someone knocked on the door...I assumed it was Daisy and opened it..." He sniffed.

"Who was it?" Booth asked. Sweets felt the tears sting his eyes. He gave up on holding them back and let out a pained sob.

"It was my father."


	8. Ch 8: Life Made Over

**A/N: Months late, I finally update! XD That rhymes. Anyways, I cannot apologize enough for the gigantic hiatus for this chapter.  
Stuff came up, exams, food, procrastination and one very long quest for a sonic screwdriver. But thank my awesome writing class buddies  
****for helping me get this chapter done. Now we'll see if I can update faster.  
Without further ado, enjoy!  
Further ado: I'm not sure if I like this chapter or not, but it's a lot better than the original version  
****(deleted by my Mum "repairing" the computer).**

**Chapter Eight: Life Made Over**

**

* * *

**

Booth and Brennan's eyes went wide as Sweets spoke.

"I...I..." He stammered, trying to stop the flow of tears. "I thought h-he was still in jail…"

"Did he break your nose?" Brennan asked. Sweets nodded silently.

Booth gritted his. He was shocked at what the therapist had said. He'd always assumed that Sweets never had any real problems in life, that he was just as chipper as he acted. But then Brennan told him about the scars. Sweets had scars on his back, scars from being whipped. Booth knew then that underneath his chipper façade, there was something else, something dark and painful in his past. And seeing him there, distraught and terrified, just solidified it.

"_Damn it,__"_ Booth thought. _"__He__'__s just a kid.__"_

"I'm...I'm sorry." Sweets said quietly after a minute of taking deep breaths, wiping away left-over tears with his sleeve. "I'm acting like a child."

"Your reaction was rational." Brennan said. The psychologist gave her half a smile at the comment.

Booth leaned over towards him.

"Sweets," he started. "Can you…can you tell us his name?" The therapist took a shaky breath, but remained silent and shifted his gaze to the floor.

"Listen," Booth tried again. "Assault on a federal agent is a _federal_ crime, you know that. We'll report it to Hacker and I promise you that we will catch the bastard." Sweets kept his eyes on the floor, looking like a guilty child.

"P-Patrick..." He stammered out. "Patrick Becker." He'd always hoped that he'd never have to say that name again.

Booth nodded. "Who would be in charge of his parole?"

"The Maryland St-State Police." Booth nodded again, placing a hand on Sweets' shoulder. The therapist flinched at the touch. Booth quickly removed his hand.

"We'll get him," he said simply. "I promise."

Booth started towards the door. Just as he began to open it, he turned to face the pair on the couch.

"Bones, stay with him." She nodded as he continued on his way.

Brennan glanced over at the psychologist. Sweets had his head in his hands and was taking deep breaths.

"Booth is a very good agent," Brennan started, trying to reassure him. "He'll be able to catch your father…" Sweets gave a quiet, dark laugh as he looked at Brennan.

"He's not my father."

"But you said-" she began, but he quickly cut her off.

"That was a mistake, stress of the situation, you know? He…he's not my father, Harold Sweets was." The therapist said the last part like he was absolutely, beyond a doubt, certain of it.

"But you're adopted, right?" she asked, he nodded. "That means you don't share any genetic traits with him," She pointed out. "Scientifically, he cannot be your father if you don't share any genes." A small smile appeared on Sweets' face.

"With all due respect, Brennan, you're wrong. Family is one thing that you don't use your brain to determine, you use your heart." He caught a quizzical look on her face. "Metaphorically, I mean." Brennan seemed to ponder this for a moment.

"I can see the logic in your point." She said after a few minutes. Sweets raised an eyebrow.

"You can?" he hadn't expected her to actually consider his point. Brennan nodded.

"In many cultures, if children are raise by a parental substitute, they will begin to adopt the figure as their parent rather than their biological one." Sweets looked a little confused, Brennan continued. "It's not genetically correct, but these children think of this person as their parent, like you and your adoptive parents."

"Um…thanks?"

She smiled. "You're welcome."

Neither of them said anything after that, leaving the room in a pleasant silence.


	9. Ch 9: Work to Do

**A/N: XD Sorry for the long update gap again! So here's a new chapter, sorry if it's kinda bad...lack of sleep.  
Also I want to say thank you everyone who is read/following/reveiwed this story, it means a lot it me. :D  
Oh, I need to squeal about this, I got to meet Kathy Reichs! She was doing a book signing so I dragged my friend down with me as an "early birthday present" (my birthday is on Friday).  
I love her books but it was kinda awkward cause I was the youngest person there. XD Fangirl moment over now! Enjoy this chapter! Now, it's one AM and I've got to sleep!**

**Chapter Nine: Work to Do**

* * *

Andrew Hacker had been quite surprised when Booth barged into his office. He'd been shocked when he'd said he was reporting a case of assault on a federal agent. But he was truly dumb-founded when Booth said it was on behalf of Doctor Sweets.

"Sweets? As in your therapist?" Hacker gawked, confused.

"Yes."

Hacker chuckled. "What happened, someone try to take his lunch money?"

Booth didn't laugh. "He was attacked in his apartment." Hacker's eyes went a little wide.

"Seriously?" he asked. Booth nodded.

"He's pretty shook up, the guy broke his nose." The Agent said, taking a seat opposite Hacker's desk. His boss let out a low whistle.

"Who'd want to hurt him? He's just a shrink."

Booth shifted in his seat, obviously uncomfortable and frustrated. "Bones and I talked to him about it."

"And?" Hacker pressed. Booth sighed.

"The guy's name is Patrick Becker; the Maryland State Police are in charge of his parole."

Hacker raised an eyebrow. "Sweets told you this?" Again, Booth nodded. "How does he know?"

Booth ran a hand through his hair and looked away. He didn't have much of a choice but to tell his boss.

"Becker is his biological father."

"Excuse me?" The AD looked quite surprised. Booth sighed again.

"Sweets is adopted, Becker is his biological father." Again, Hacker seemed suprised.

"You said the Maryland State Police are in charge of his parole, correct?" his boss asked. Booth nodded.

"Let me guess, Sweets also knows what Becker on parole for?" Booth nodded. "Wow, the kid really wanted to keep tabs on this guy."

"Can't blame him." The Agent muttered. Hacker stayed silent for a moment, giving Booth the opportunity to speak. He didn't take it.

"So," he finally started. "What is Becker on parole for?" Booth really didn't want to say it. He really didn't want to tell Hacker about what the bastard had done to the psychologist. But he knew he had to, he wouldn't have that strong of a case otherwise. Sweets would forgive him for it, right?

"He's on parole for assault on a minor."

Hacker's eyes bugged out a little. He gulped nervously before asking the next question.

"W-was the minor..." he trailed off. Booth nodded.

"It was Sweets."

* * *

The psychologist and anthropologist nearly jumped out of their skin when they heard Booth re-enter the office. Realizing he'd startled them, he gently closed the door and leaned against it.

Sweets whirled around from his spot on the couch to face Booth. The Agent avoided eye contact, focusing on the bookshelf across the room. No words were being exchanged but he knew what they were asking.

_"What happened?"_

Booth took a deep breath. "It's an official FBI case. We're calling up his parole officer to see if he knows about this." Out of the corner of his eye, Booth saw Brennan's jagged, nervous posture soften, but Sweets didn't move, keeping his eyes on Booth.

"Who's the agent on the case?" he asked.

"I asked Hacker to assign me to this." Booth replied. The therapist bit his lip.

"A-are they running a background check on him?" his voice quivered slightly. The agent nodded. He'd get all the files on Becker, criminal record, credit reports and, what the shrink dreaded, the Social Services files.

Just then, Brennan's phone chirped, drawing the three out of the tense mood. The anthropologist drew her phone from her pocket.

"I should..." she trailed off.

"Yea, might be important..." Booth added. Brennan quickly stood up and exited the room, a faint, "What is it Cam?" being heard as the door closed.

Booth moved from his spot beside the door and towards the psychologist's chair. Sweets tried to hide an annoyed look as he sat down in it. Booth shifted uncomfotably in the chair.

"No offence Sweets, but your chair sucks." he leaned back and crossed one leg. There was no response from the psychologist, who just fiddled with his tie.

"Should I send CSU to your apartment?" The agent asked.

"Hmm?" This caught the therapist's attention.

"You said Becker came to your apartment, should CSU go over it and see if they can find anything?"

"N-no," Sweets quickly said. "He was j-just in the hall." he resumed playing with the tie.

"Listen," Booth tried again. "Maybe you should take the rest of the day off."

"I-I don't really -I'm fine." he said abruptly, trying to keep from stammering.

"No, you are not "fine". You've been out of it all day. You need to just take the rest of the day to relax." Booth insisted.

"Agent Booth, I'm fine." he said, harsher this time. "I just need to get back to work."

"Sweets, listen to me-"

"Just drop it!" he hadn't meant to yell, but it slipped out. Booth's eyes widened a little, but kept the rest of his expression stoic.

"Alright," he said, getting up from his seat. "Get back to work then." This suprised the psychologist, but he tried not to show it. Booth was not one to give in.

"Thank you." he said, getting up as well. Booth ignored it.

"I'll be in my office if you want me." he said, opening the door. The agent paused, turning back to glance at the therapist, then continued on his way out.

The second the door closed, Sweets felt extremely guilty.

_"He was just trying to help."_

The shrink gritted his teeth, trying to keep himself together.

_"Stop it, you're not a child," _he told himself. _"You can't cry about every little thing."_

The exhaustion from the previous night caught up to him then. Sweets yawned and glanced back at the couch, tempted to lie down on it and drift off.

_"No,"_ his subconscious nagged. _"You need to get back to work."_

That was true. There were profiles to be written and case reports to type up. There was work to be done, and he was damned if lack of sleep was going to keep him from it.


	10. Ch 10: Risks

**A/N: Double legnth update all the way! Sorry, its one AM.  
Anyways, I almost didn't post this chapter because it featured Perotta in a prominent role which another story also did recently while I was working on it, but there was too much to let it go to waste.  
And if Perotta's part doesn't make much sense, I plan on elaborating in either a later chapter or story. I particularly like the ending of this chapter.  
Off-Topic: Aparently it's fun to wrap someone up in streamers on their birthday (You know who you are).  
Without further ado; enjoy!  
Further ado: Reviews are my life-support and make me update faster. ;)**

**Chapter Ten: Risks**

**

* * *

**The sun had sunken low in the sky by the next time someone burst into the office.

"Hey Sweets." Peyton Perotta greeted as she entered. The Agent did a double take at the cast on his nose, but didn't comment.

"Um...hello Agent Perotta," he said, a bit puzzled. He was used to Booth and the Squints entering unannounced, but other agents rarely burst in. The blonde stood by the door, staring at him with an expectant look on her face.

"Is...is there anything I can help you with?" he asked after a moment. Perotta tapped her fingers on one folded arm.

"Yea, remember that profile I asked you to write up?" Sweets squinted into the distance, trying to remember.

"Hmm...it was...the strangler case?"

"That's the one," she said, finger tapping speeding up. "Did you do it?" Sweets, again, though for a moment.

"Yep," he answered. "I've got it right here-" he reached over the chair for his breifcase, but grasped at empty air. "Um..."

"Oh, so it's invisible!" Perotta teased, a small smile on her lips. "I think that may be a little challenging for me to read. Got it on paper?"

"I -I -uh..." Sweets stammered. After their late-night trip to the hospital, he and Daisy had overslept, leading to a rush to get out the door on-time. Sweets silently cursed. He must have forgotten his briefcase in the chaos.

"I...I think I may have forgot it at home." he said sheepishly. Perotta's smiled wavered.

"You're kidding..." she said.

"I'm sorry," he said. "I can bring it in tomorrow if-"

"Sweets, I needed this profile yesterday!" she said, surprising the psychology with her outburst, but he couldn't blame her. The case file she'd given him had been gruesome, five women were the victims, all strangled with barbed wire in their own homes. He inwardly shuddered, thinking about the crime scene photos. Perotta had said they hadn't found any leads when she'd asked him to profile the killer, and that was a week ago.

Sweets analyzed the Agent. She had dark circles under her eyes, her usually friendly demeanour had vanished and she was impatient. Perotta was obviously stressed.

He knew he wasn't in the right state of mind then, but Sweets couldn't help himself. Perotta was frustrated, there was a killer out there and she couldn't catch him. She needed help.

"Agent Perotta, is there anything you want to talk about?" he asked, standing up from his desk and gesturing to the couch.

"I don't need you to be all shrink-y on me right now," she said. "I just need the profile."

"Listen," he started. "you're stressed about this case, don't try to hide it. I'm here to help you when you're stressed, it's my job." Perotta didn't move.

"I won't "be all shrink-y" on you, I promise," he assured her, taking a seat in his chair. "We'll just talk, nothing goes on record." Perotta stayed still for a moment, then hesitantly took a seat across from him.

"Nothing goes on record?" she repeated.

"Nope." he confirmed. Perotta remained silent for a moment, then took a deep breath.

"It...it's just, this guy," she started. "He's killed six people already. Two of them within the past four days."

"So you're trying to catch a serial killer, but have no way of finding him?" Sweets asked. Perotta nodded.

"He's very careful. Only attacks women when they're alone in their homes, dresses up as a matenence man or city worker as not to draw suspicion and he hasn't left a single piece of DNA evidence, not even a fingerprint!" The Agent broke eye contact, shifting her gaze to the window.

"The latest victim had a daughter," she perched her head on her left hand. "Eleven years old. She came home from a friend's house..." Perotta trailed off. "Can you imagine what that's like? Going home and finding your mother dead?" she said quietly. Her eyes looked glazed over, as if she was lost in a thought.

Yes, he could imagine what it was like. Every scenario playing out in your head as to how you could have been there, what you could've done differently that may have saved her and hating yourself for failing to do so.

_"Can you imagine what that's like? Going home and finding your mother dead?"_

She'd said it as if she knew exactly what it was like.

"When did it happen?" he asked quietly.

"The latest murder?"

"No, when did your mother die?"

Perotta smiled sadly. "You really are a smarty-pants, aren't you?" Sweets didn't say anything. Her eyes dropped to the floor. "I was ten." The agent bit the bottom of her lip and didn't say anything. She looked as if she felt guilty about this.

He wanted to say something to her, to tell her that it wasn't her fault, but the words wouldn't come out. Sweets felt truly useless then. He was supposed to help people, but how could he do that when he wasn't even in the right state of mind?

The next though that popped into his head was a terrible one. He knew Booth would probably kill him for it, but he had to try it. After all, he just wanted to help.

"A-Agent Perotta," he started. "If you want, I could run over to my apartment and get the profile."

"Really?" she asked, a little stunned.

"Yea, I live about twenty minutes away, wouldn't take long." he said the last part more for himself than her. He'd just run in, grab the profile, and drive back to the Hoover Building. No one would even notice he was gone.

A small smile slipped onto her lips. "I'd appreciate that." He weakly returned it.

"No problem."

Now only if he could convince himself of that.

* * *

"Booth,"

The agent looked up from the file in his hand to his partner standing in the doorway.

"Hey Bones," he greeted, placing the item on his desk. Brennan entered and took a seat opposite him. "What did Cam want?"

"Oh, she was just letting me know we found a cause of death in the Castle case. Three stab wounds to the stomach and lungs caused by a butcher knife," she paused, waiting for him to congratulate her or put two pieces together and crack the case. She got no such reaction.

"You're usually happy when I give you cause of death."

Booth leaned back in his chair. "Sorry, atta girl, Bones!" he said half-heartedly.

"Booth, are you okay?" she asked.

"I'm fine," he assured her. "Just a little distracted."

"Because of Sweets?" she asked. Booth looked a little surprised.

"Yea, how'd you know?"

"I am too. He's acting very out-of-character."

"Well, that kind of thing happens when you're scared," Booth placed a hand over the file on his desk. "I called the Maryland State Police Department. Becker was released from jail about nine months ago. He served a few extra years for poor behaviour."

"Why wasn't Sweets informed?" Brennan asked.

"They had his last name listed as Becker, not Sweets," he explained. "I'm guessing when he was adopted, his parents legally changed his name. As far as the police were concerned, Lance Becker dropped off the radar in 1992." she nodded, understanding.

"So when Becker was released, they couldn't find Sweets to let him know." she finished his explanation. Booth nodded.

"They didn't even bother to try and find him." he said spitefully.

"Did the police say when they lost track of Becker?" Brennan asked, wanting to change the subject.

"About four weeks ago. He didn't check in with his parole officer. When the police went to arrest him, they found his apartment empty," Booth ran a hand through his hair. "Sweets is really freaked out about this, he's not thinking strait."

"I already pointed that out." Brennan said.

"But that's exactly my point. Even you can tell something's wrong," Booth continued. "He snapped at me earlier," he said that a little more quietly. "I mean, this is Sweets, our twelve-year-old shrink who can put up with an entire bickering lab but snapped at me for telling him to go home."

"I agree, it's worrying," she said. "But you and I are not psychologists, we don't know how to handle these kinds of problems. The best thing we can to do help him is finding Becker." Booth's lips curled upwards slightly. "Why are you smiling?" she asked.

"Cause you're right." Brennan had to smile a bit at that.

"You know, Bones, you've got more heart than what people give you credit for." she opened her mouth to protest.

"Metaphorically." he quickly added.

* * *

Sweets' hands were shaking as he forced the key into the apartment's lock.

_"In and out,"_ he repeated in his head. _"Grab your briefcase and leave. You'll be doing Perotta a huge favour. It won't even take five minutes."_

Quickly, he pulled the door open and slid in. His home was dark at the moment, the little remaining sunlight barely making the outlines of furniture visible.

Sweets turned and pulled the door closed, not bothering to lock it. It would be a useless hassle for the short time he'd be there.

_"Okay, the briefcase is...in the bedroom!"_ he remember, turning to face the inside of the apartment.

_BANG!_

He didn't have enough time to comprehend what had happened.

First, there was the muffled _bang_, not smothered, but obscured enough that it could not be heard through the walls.

Within seconds of that, Sweets felt a sharp pain smash into his left arm. He yelped and quickly raised a hand to the source. He felt a hole in the fabric of his jacket, the surrounding area was wet. He glanced down at it. In the fading rays of sun, he could make out dark red blood trickling from the wound. Sweets cringed and clamped the hand over it, hoping to stop the flow.

He looked into his apartment, vision blurred slightly. There was a new outline there, a man holding one in one hand what he assumed was a scrunched up sweater and a gun in the other. Sweets gasped, half in shock and half in pain.

"Alright, _Doctor Sweets_," Becker said, putting a hateful emphasis on his name. "I think it's time you and I had a little chat..."


	11. Ch 11: Not As It Appears

**A/N: I am a cruel, cruel person to leave you all with that cliffhanger for so long, sorry.  
School has started once more, so update will still be a little slow.  
Dear God, it's nearly 3 AM. I need some sleep. Oh yes, thanks again to Ms. Low (I got it right that time) for grammer check and my Niner buddy for the read-through.  
Enjoy!**

**Chapter Eleven: Not As It Appears**

**

* * *

**

Sweets began to shake as Becker came closer.

"I saw your little girlfriend last night," he grabbed the therapist by the collar of his shirt. "Good looking thing."

He felt sick then. Becker had still been there when Daisy came. The thought of what the man could have done to her made him want to vomit.

"What I don't get is why she'd waste her time with you." he could smell alcohol on Becker's breath. He tucked the gun into his pants. Sweets prayed that he'd left the safety off.

"Does she know?" he asked. "Does she know how messed up you are?" Sweets bit back tears and didn't say anything. Becker slapped him across the face with his free hand. "Answer me." Still no response. The man grunted, yanked the psychologist away from the door and shoved him into the center of the room, releasing his grip. Sweets immediately reached back up to his wounded arm. His vision was a little blurred, but still good enough to make out the dark shapes of furniture in the apartment. He was still bleeding quite a bit, but that was the least of his concerns at the moment.

It took a moment for Sweets to register Becker knocking him over and his body thudding to the ground. The wounded arm slammed against the couch and he cried out in pain.

"Shut up!" Becker hissed, delivering a harsh kick to the therapist's ribs. He wasn't sure if the _crack_ he heard was really the bone snapping or in his head, but the pain from it caused him to scream again.

"You've got _nothing_ to scream about yet." Becker growled, crouching down next to him. Sweets tried to scramble away, but as he forced himself to sit up, a sharp pain shot up from his ribcage and he crashed back onto the floor.

The man placed a hand on the psychologist's chest, forcing him to remain on the ground. Sweets could feel tears beginning to form in his eyes, distorting his vision even more.

"Do you know what kind of Hell I went through in prison because of you?" Becker asked. The shrink couldn't force any words out.

"No answer?" he sneered. "Well then..."

Becker used his free hand to reach into his jacket and pulled something out. The therapist tried to blink the tears away so he could see what it was.

"I guess I'll just have to show you."

Sweets could just barely make out the shape of the object in Becker's hand. He didn't bother to stifle a gasp.

It was a whip.

* * *

Daisy nervously cracked her knuckles as she watched the numbers light up.

_**5**_

_**6**_

_**7**_

_Ding!_

The elevator jerked to a stop and the doors opened, allowing more people to pile in. She let out a little grunt of annoyance. At this rate, she'd never get to the nineteenth floor!

_**8**_

_**9**_

_Ding!_

The Intern found herself forced into the back wall as the lift reached maximum capacity. She had no idea so many agents actually worked in the building. She'd assumed that they were always in the field and that the offices were just for administration workers and civilian employees, like Sweets.

Daisy smiled to herself at the thought of her boyfriend. Since Doctor Brennan was working with Agent Booth and she'd finished up her examination of the skeleton, Doctor Saroyan had agreed to let her go home early. She'd decided to use this free time to drop-by Sweets' office. Daisy knew he could do with a little pick-me-up and she couldn't think of a better one than surprising him with a visit.

_**10**_

_**11**_

_**12**_

_Ding!_

A third of the passengers exited the elevator. Daisy happily stretched her limbs out in the newfound space.

_**13**_

_**14**_

_**15**_

_Ding!_

Her thoughts jumped back to their phone call earlier. He'd sounded terrible, voice shaking and trying desperately to get off the line. And then there was the incident last night, the mere thought of which made her shudder. It scared her to see him like that, in pain and absolutely terrified.

_**16**_

_**17**_

_**18**_

_**19**_

_Ding!_

As the doors rolled open, Daisy quickly stepped out of the elevator, thankful to be off the contraption.

Quickly, she made her way through the halls to her boyfriend's office, a route she knew by heart. She grinned at the sight of the door. Grasping the handle, she yanked it open.

"Hi Lan-" she stopped dead in her tracks. The office was empty.

Raising an eyebrow, Daisy ventured in. The place looked as if a small tornado had passed through. Papers were strewn across the desk, the roller chair was halfway across the room and a file sat open on the table, but no Sweets.

_"Maybe he's with Agent Booth."_ Yes, that was very likely. Sweets idolized him like she did Doctor Brennan. He _had_ to be there.

Daisy turned to leave-

"Oh my God!"

The sudden appearance of a woman in the doorway startled her. She seemed to be in her mid-thirties, had pretty blonde hair and dressed in a neat skirt and jacket combination.

"Hi there," the woman said a little uneasily. "I'm sorry, did I scare you?"

Daisy quickly swallowed down some air to speak. "Oh, no! Just a little startled." she smiled and held out a hand. "Hi, I'm Daisy." The woman shook it.

"Nice to meet you Daisy, I'm Peyton." Perotta surveyed the chaos of the room. It hadn't been like this an hour and a half ago. She decided not to comment on it.

"Are you looking for Doctor Sweets?" she asked Daisy. The intern nodded vigorously.

"Yep, have you seen him anywhere?" she asked. Perotta shook her head.

"I'm having the same problem as you. He said he was running to his apartment to grab a profile for me, but that was almost two hours ago."

_"The apartment?" _Daisy thought. _"It's like...twenty minutes from here!"_

"I gotta run, thanks for letting me know that!" she said as she quickly made for the door.

"No problem," Perotta replied. "Let him know I'm looking for him if you see him."

"I will." Daisy said absent minded-ly as she broke out into a jog.

Within seconds, she'd arrived at the elevators once more. Daisy slammed the button and began to tap her foot impatiently.

After what seemed like an eternity, the doors slid open, revealing it's two occupants. Daisy silently thanked God for her luck.

"Miss Wick," Brennan said, obviously surprised. "What are you doing here?"

"Were you talking to Sweets?" Booth asked.

"No, Agent Booth," she replied hastily. "That's the problem, Lance told this Agent he was going to his apartment to grab a profile for her, but he didn't come back..."


	12. Ch 12: In Harm's Way

**A/N: Further proof that I have no social life; It's lunch and I'm updating fanfiction.  
I really should get out more.  
I suppose I should warn of dark themes in this chapter, but it depends on your interpritation of "dark" (or my terrible attempt at writing, take your pic).  
:D Someone just said "Hi" to me and gave me a hug! I'm now happy.  
Well, I can spend the rest of lunch tormenting Niners (like the one whose reading over my shoulder as I type. That's right, I see all, kid).  
Enjoy!**

**Chapter Twelve: In Harm's Way**

**

* * *

**

Booth didn't give Daisy's words a second thought. He grabbed the intern by the arm, pulled her into the elevator and slammed the parking lot button. The doors slid closed and the elevator lurched downwards.

"Where is Sweets' apartment building?" Booth asked.

"85 West Street. It's about a twenty minute drive." Daisy quickly responded.

"You know the way?" he asked. She nodded.

Even though there were no stops this time, the elevator ride felt like an eternity. The second the doors re-opened, the trio exited the lift and sprinted to Booth's car. The agent climbed into the driver's seat, Brennan sat shotgun and Daisy hopped into the back.

"I don't quite understand why we're going to Doctor Sweets' apartment." Brennan said as Booth turned the key.

"What do you mean by that?" he asked, stepping on the gas. The car sped forwards and out of the garage.

"From what Miss Wick has told us, the Agent she talked to just said that Sweets had gone to his apartment, we don't know for sure if he actually got there." Daisy made an unsettled noise at that thought.

"Well, it's the best lead we've got right now. Daisy, which way?"

"Left at Cherry Street." she directed. Booth nodded.

"You said it was a twenty minute drive?" he asked. The intern nodded. Booth stepped harder on the gas.

He knew he could get there in ten.

* * *

"Take off your jacket." Becker ordered. Sweets didn't move, it hurt too much. Becker growled under his breath and got down next to the psychologist. The man pushed on the broken rib, forcing the therapist to roll from his back to his chest. Then, Becker grabbed his wounded arm. He held it up, harshly yanked the sleeve off, and let the appendage fall to the floor, causing Sweets to groan loudly in pain. He repeated this with the other arm, then grabbed the jacket and threw it onto the chair next to them.

Standing back up, Becker raised the whip.

"You deserve everything that's coming to you."

_Snap!_

_

* * *

_

"He was attacked?"

Booth and Brennan had decided to bring Daisy up to speed on what they had found out.

"Yes, by a man named Patrick Becker." The anthropologist explained.

"Who the Hell is that? Take a right here."

As the car turned, the partners shared an uneasy look.

"He's Sweets' biological father." he said, trying to keep emotion out of his voice. There was no response from the back seat. Booth glanced up to the mirror. The intern's reflection looked shocked, but quickly changed to one of anger.

She clutched her fists and began to grit her teeth. In a dark monotone that deeply unsettled the pair, Daisy simply said, "If that bastard so much as_ touches _Lance again, I am going to put a bullet right between his eyes."

Neither of the partners said anything aloud, but she knew they probably felt the exact same way.

Just then, something clicked in Booth's head.

"Daisy, do you have a cell phone?"

"Of course, why?"

"Did you try and call Sweets at all after we lost track of him?"

Daisy swore loudly.

"I am such an idiot," she grunted as she rummaged through her purse. "I really am."

"You're not," Brennan assured her. "You're just panicked. People forget to do things when they're panicked."

Daisy mumbled a quiet "Thanks, Doctor Brennan." as she withdrew her phone. Flipping it open, she quickly punched in her boyfriend's number.

_Ring!_

_Ring!_

"C'mon, baby," she said desperately. "Pick up the phone..."

* * *

Sweets felt the sharp tip cut through his shirt and slice into his skin. He let out a blood-curling scream.

"You're a worthless little brat!"

_Snap!_

Another scream.

"I should've killed you years ago!"

_Snap!_

_Ring!_

Becker paused.

_Ring!_

He glanced at the discarded jacket. Something was glowing in one of the pockets.

_Ring!_

Becker reached into the pocket and withdrew a phone. A quick glance at the caller ID made him grin.

"Well, well, look whose calling," he crouched down next to Sweets and held the phone in front of him. The screen displayed a woman grinning with her head cocked to the side. Underneath it, in bold black letters was a name; **DAISY**.

"It seems like your girlfriend is looking for you. Why don't we say hi?" he hit speakerphone.

_"Thank God,"_ a voice crackled. _"We were so worried about you, baby!"_

"You're wasting your time with him," Becker said. "He's just going to pull you down."

There was silence on the other end of the line, then a _very_ loud curse.

_"Who the Hell is this?"_ Although Daisy was pretty sure she already knew.

Becker laughed and turned to Sweets. "You never bothered to mention your own father to her?"

_"You're not his father."_ she said bluntly.

"He may not think of me as that," the man started. "But you can't deny he's half of me."

Daisy didn't respond to his statement, instead asking, _"Where's Lance?"_

There seemed to be a squabble going on in the background of Daisy's call. A female voice was asking for the identity of the man on the other end of the line, while a male ordered her to put it on speakerphone.

"He's right here," Becker said, extending the phone towards the psychologist. "Say hi." he grinned manically.

_"If you've done anything to him, I am going to _murder_ you!"_ she screamed. The male voice ordered her to give him the phone.

"I'm terrified." Becker muttered sarcastically. He turned back to Sweets. "I think your girlfriend's got some friends with her. Go on, say hello to them."

The therapist blinked a few times. His vision had gotten extremely blurred and his eyelids were begging for him to let them close.

"Daisy..." he hoarsely whispered, hoping she'd heard.

_"I'm right here, baby." _she assured him. _"Don't worry."_

_"Sweets,"_ Booth cut in. _"Are you alright? Where are you?"_

"I..." he started, desperately trying to stay conscious. "I'm...at home..." Becker pulled the phone back.

"I think that's enough." he muttered, about to hit the "end button", but his thumb stopped just an inch above it. His mouth twisted into a smirk as he turned back to Sweets.

"On second though..." he started, placing the phone on the table. "If your friends are going through so much trouble to find you, we should at least let them know what we're doing."

Becker raised the whip again.

_Snap!_


	13. Ch 13: Bad Situation

**A/N: Yeah...sorry about the long update wait, but I've been busy. Like, really _really_ busy. But hey, new chapter! :D  
I was totally going to see _The Rocky Horror Picture Show_ tonight (I even had my Columbia costume ready!) but Dad ended up  
having to work, so I decided "fanfiction" as the fall back. XD So my loss is your gain (or your loss as well, if you hate the chapter).  
****It's nearly 3 AM, I'm watching _Bones_ right now. _The Beginning in the End_ to be exact. Sweets being "Mr. Adventure" is still so cute!**  
**By the way, shameless self promotion here, but I recently wrote a _Criminal Minds_ fanfic which you may like if you're into speculative fiction.  
****Anyway, that aside, I'm sorry in advance for whatever makes the next chapter take forever.  
****Enjoy!**

* * *

**Chapter Thirteen: Bad Situation**

* * *

The first scream shocked them all.

Booth had sworn loudly, Daisy murmured a quiet "No" and Brennan had simply winced.

The second one came quickly afterwards. Booth gritted his teeth to keep from another outburst and stepped harder on the gas, Brennan muttered "Oh God" under her breath but Daisy remained silent, looking absolutely horrified.

It wasn't long before a thrid one came, followed by a fourth. With every one, the car seemed to disregard the speed limit more, but to it's occupants, it felt as if they were heading nowhere.

As Booth tore down the streets, Daisy continued to direct him. Her voice quivered as she tried to keep calm, occasionally stopping to call "We're coming, just hold on," or other reassurances into the phone. Eventually, the silence between the cries became longer and longer until they stopped altogether.

The silence let the pair in front hear the quiet "Oh God...no..." that escaped the intern's mouth.

After what seemed like hours, the shaky voice in the back seat said "Stop."

Booth's foot slammed the break and the tires produced a noticeable screech. He threw the door open and hopped out, Brennan and Daisy following suite.

The apartment building looked average. It was dark red with white trim, about seven stories tall and had a rusty fire escape on the left.

The agent pulled his gun from it's holster.

"Wait here." he told them.

"Like hell I am." the intern said, her voice not deciding if it was fearful or defiant.

"Daisy, this could be dangerous," Booth hissed under his breath. "I can't risk either of you getting hurt."

"But we'd be in more danger out here," she spoke quickly. "Two women all alone at night on a dark street? Who knows what could happen."

"Miss Wick does have a good point." Brennan whispered. Although she _did_ believe the logic to Daisy's argument, she really just wanted to help Sweets.

Booth sighed, defeated. "Alright, just...stay behind me." The two women nodded and Booth took a step forwards.

* * *

He was alerted to their presence by the screeching tires.

Becker quickly pressed his back to the wall, edged the window open a crack and listened.

_"I can't risk either of you getting hurt."_

He quietly cursed and peered out. On the street below, a man and two women stood outside the building. In the darkness, he couldn't make out any distinguishable features, but the voice was unmistakable. It was the man from the phone. He glanced back at the man lying on the floor.

He was going to have to speed things up a little.

* * *

Sweets had given up on screaming, realizing that if no one had responded yet then it was incredibly unlikely that anyone would. Now he just focused his remaining energy on gripping his quickly slipping state of consciousness.

The entire apartment had become blurry and just looking at the mass of swirling shadows gave him a headache. He knew what that meant; bloodloss, lots of it. It was taking it's toll, rapidly depleating the little force he had left. Despite the massive pain hammering his head, Sweets forced his eyes to stay open, knowing that if he closed them for even a second, he'd be out like a light. And with Becker still there, that was something he didn't want to risk

He knew what had just happened to him. Hell, he could _feel_ it. But Sweets just couldn't bring himself to accept what was going on. Patrick Becker, his biological father, was in his house and...and...oh God.

The true weight of the situation came cashing down right then. He'd tried to do it when he was five. Sweets knew he was only alive today because of Becker's hesitance and the extra time it'd bought social services to find him. But he wasn't five anymore and Becker hadn't seen him for nearly twenty years. He referred to him only as Doctor Sweets, never Lance. He was trying to making him a stranger, not, as much as the shrink hated to admit it, his child. He had a gun, it would be easier now.

Patrick Becker was going to kill him.


End file.
